Sounds Good!

 Last night, as it approached midnight, I settled in, picked up my crocheting, and hit play on the latest episode of In Our Time on BBC Radio 4. I've been listening to this show for more than a quarter of a century, albeit sometimes with a long time in between listens. I'm not interested in every topic, but I can always go back and listen to older episodes that I've missed. There are over a thousand of them on the site, I think.* The latest episode is the one I listened to last night. The topic was slime molds. It was a mind-bending, extremely fascinating discussion. As always, the host, Melvyn Bragg, had three guests, all of them experts in their fields--in this case, slime mold researchers and someone who was not quite as immersed in that world, but was deeply into fungi. Melvyn Bragg always does such a great job of getting them to explain things in language that is understandable to people who have no background whatsoever in whatever the topic is. He will ask again if he feels it necessary to do so for clarity. I also like the way he is often amazed at what he's hearing in the same way I am.The result is a collection of intelligent, highly informative, very entertaining, worthwhile discussions about a whole array of specific topics in the broad categories of history, philosophy, science, religion (as an institution, not as dogma) and literature, music, visual arts. Each episode is around 45 minutes long and when listening online to the podcast, there's a few minutes of extra discussion, so they clock in at around 50 minutes. I get so engrossed in what I'm listening to that the time whizzes by.

So, slime molds--no brain, yet better than humans at some things. Can find their way out of mazes quite adeptly, for example. One of the guests told the story of his friend, who can never find his way out of an IKEA store. He set up a small slime mold sized replica of one in his lab and the slime molds found the quickest way out in no time. Slime molds have memory and will mimic behavior of other slime molds. They know which slime molds are related to them. Someone mentioned flatworms in the discussion and explained that they can be taught to do tricks and they remember what they've learned. If their heads are cut off, they will grow new heads with new brains, yet still remember the tricks learned when they had the previous head/brain. So where is this memory stored? I love learning new things, especially things that stretch my mind, and this definitely did.

*Although I've put the links in above, this show and so much more can also be accessed via the BBC Sounds app, which is a wonderful app to have. I particularly like BBC Radio 4 and 4Extra. They have some really excellent content that ranges from radio drama, comedy, and mystery to science programs to books to news to opinion pieces and more. It's definitely worth checking out.

Another thing I listened to last night was the latest song posted on YouTube by Wendy Jensen, a Canadian musician. I discovered her a little over a year ago when a different song of hers was suggested to me. I listened to it, loved it, sent it to Bill who also loved it. We've purchased some of her music in the year since. It's quite lovely and peaceful to listen to. Here's the one I listened to last night, but there's more on her channel, which I highly recommend. I think her music is only available there and on Bandcamp, which is where we got our albums.

I'm not sure yet what it is I'll be listening to tonight, but I hope it's as good as last night's listening was! Hope you've got some good stuff to listen to as well.

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Not My Impression

 Yesterday, I posted about a very brief interaction I had with a stranger as I was walking to the small grocery store--after wishing me good morning, he asked if I'd 'gotten through the Christmas' which struck me as an amusing turn of phrase. I've realized that the post needed more context to explain why I found it amusing and why I didn't think it was an expression of distress about Christmas.

Certainly, there are people for whom Christmas is a dreaded season/holiday in general. I know several people who feel this way. For them, Christmas is indeed an ordeal that they are happy to get through. I have a great deal of empathy for these feelings, because from what I can tell, it's the same thing I experience in advance of every spring and summer. Those feelings will be with me shortly. However, while those who find Christmas difficult will express those feelings to certain people, they would never go around announcing it to people in general. In the same way, I always smile and hide my gloom when people are gushing about 'the grand stretch in the evening' as the days lengthen or as they bounce off the walls and eat ice cream at the sight of a sunbeam. I'm happy to witness their joy and to eat ice cream, but what I'd like to do is crawl into bed and be woken up when September arrives. Bill knows that when I say that the weather is going to be good, he won't like it. We were once having coffee with a good friend and one of his friends. It was cloudy and then the sun came out. Our friend joked with me that the weather was turning against me. The acquaintance was puzzled until our friend explained my intense dislike of sunshine and sunny days. The acquaintance laughed and said I must never say such things in public otherwise they'll call for a straitjacket. So yes, I understand the difficult emotions that Christmas can bring up for people, whether it's a lifelong thing or because of a tremendous and painful loss. I didn't get the impression that this was what the guy yesterday was expressing. Here's why.

Upon our arrival in this country, we quickly learned that although we were all speaking English, and we used the same words, often the combination of words was different and/or what was meant by the words was not the same on both sides. For example, the first time we moved we went to the bank to change branches. We wanted to keep the same bank, but because we were moving to a different area, we thought we'd have to do something to use a different branch. The woman at the bank thought we wanted to close our account. We explained what we meant and she told us that we just had to change our address but do nothing else. The branch where we opened our account will be our home branch until we close it, no matter where in the country we are. 

Beyond that kind of misunderstanding, one of the things I've found so fascinating is observing and learning about various linguistic norms that exist here. There is a tendency towards drama and hyperbole both in the words used and the tone in which those words are uttered. Because we're on buses so much, I've had many opportunities to listen to conversations between acquaintances and it struck me early on that whether they're talking about the weather or someone's illness, they tend to use very hyperbolic language delivered in a dramatic fashion. This tendency is also evident in passing comments, such as that made by the guy yesterday. Whenever we are out and about, wherever we are, almost everyone we encounter will communicate in some way. Sometimes it's a nod in greeting, but mostly, it's verbal. They will begin with some version of hello. Sometimes they ask if we're on holiday. For years I thought people were asking me, 'How's the farm?' and I had no idea how to reply. When I mentioned this to a friend, she enlightened me. They're asking, 'How's the form?' and I misheard. 😂 But what comes up most often in these fleeting interactions is the weather. And you might not think that people could be very dramatic and hyperbolic in a passing comment about the weather as they walk past someone on the sidewalk, but I can assure you that they can be quite dramatic indeed.

About a month ago, on a windy, chilly, slightly rainy day--in other words, pretty typical for the west of Ireland in November-- we were coming back from our weekly trip to veg man's stall when we passed someone we'd chatted with while waiting for the bus heading in the opposite direction. We were lugging our bags of produce and she was hurrying in the opposite direction, coat zipped all the way up, hood on and closed tightly around her face. 'Hello!' she said, 'Isn't it terrible? It's HORRIBLE weather! Just HORRIBLE!' Years ago, on a mild but cloudy day, we passed a woman who said hello and then growled about the weather, 'It's a BLACK day.'  At the opposite end of the weather commentary, when it gets sunny and warm (by warm I mean around 20c/68f), the word 'scorchio' gets bandied about. I wait for the first scorchio sighting every year. There is giddy commentary when it's warmer here than in Spain (as it was on Christmas, apparently). But then after a few days of scorchio, things take a dramatic turn in the other direction. I've had more than one person express concern to me about the danger the sun and heat poses to children, which is true, but perhaps not quite as dangerous as was expressed. Again, this is not a heat dome with temperatures above 110 degrees. I don't know that it's ever hit 80f in the decade I've been here, at least where I've been. I've done plenty of grumbling myself about the heat anyway, because once we get into the upper 50s, I start to get annoyed. But I do not have the dramatic linguistic flair required to match Irish weather commentary. I do enjoy it, though.

So all that is to say that I took the guy's comment about getting through Christmas in the context of what I've observed and experienced about the communication style used by Irish people in such situations. Like certain other comments and phrases, I thought it was interesting from a cultural linguistic standpoint in the same way I find it interesting that it's common for people to say 'the' Christmas. I didn't think he'd had a miserable Christmas and was happy it was over or that he was concerned that those he was speaking to had experienced anything like that. I took it in the same way I take it when someone asks if I had a nice Christmas or comments on the weather--as a seasonal passing comment that he probably didn't think anything of, but that I found quirky and interesting.

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That's What It's All About

 This morning I dashed over to the small local grocery store. On my way I passed a guy setting up the tent for the usual GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association) Friday fundraiser for the local group. We exchanged 'good mornings' and he asked me, 'So, did you make it through the Christmas alright?' I was rather taken aback by his phrasing, but I smiled and said I did. 'Ah, that's grand,' he replied,'That's what it's all about.' I think I said, 'Yeah' or something equally meaningless, but in my head I was laughing and thinking, 'It is? Getting through the Christmas alright is what it's all about? Who knew?' And I bet you thought doing the hokey-pokey was what it's all about! 😀😉

Ah well, he provided me with some pre-coffee amusement, and that's always good. I hope you have some moments of laughter in your day, too.

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I Hope You...

 

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To Supper and Beyond

 The Christmas Eve lasagna is in the slow cooker.

I left plenty of room at the top because the noodles will expand as they cook. Here's the slow cooker method that I use.

For various reasons, we stopped having a big meal on Christmas Day over 40 years ago and we've never missed it. I do always make jalapeno cheese puffs on the day, because while they're delicious as leftovers, they are at their best hot from the oven. So that's all I'll make tomorrow.

We'll also have some smoked salmon spread on crackers and some fruit and veg.I made the salmon spread today.

Of course there is enough of everything to have leftovers for a few/several days. The 26th is St Stephen's Day here and a holiday. For me it's the real holiday because we have the leftovers and all being well, I can meander through a few quiet days. I'm getting there. 

Smoked Salmon (or Mackerel) Spread

I just dump stuff into my food processor and whiz until smooth. Amounts aren't really important here. It depends on how much you want to make and what you like. I don't measure, but just eyeball everything and add to our taste. 

Into the food processor I put smoked salmon (mackerel is yummy, too), some shredded mature cheddar, a few sun dried tomatoes, a roasted red pepper, some cream cheese (ricotta or silken tofu work really well, too), some chopped scallions, garlic granules, dried oregano, and basil. Jalapenos are really yummy in here, too and I will probably add some to mine.

You could have a completely different flavor profile by changing the herbs and spices. And you could add other antipasto sorts of veggies if you like--artichoke hearts, for example--or you could leave things out. 

However, whatever, and whether or not you celebrate, I wish you joy and peace as we near the end of this year. 

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Not All Comfort and Joy in the Dead of Winter

The Dead of Winter: The Demons, Witches and Ghosts of Christmas

by Sarah Clegg

published by Granta

ISBN 9781803511535

Let me start off by saying that I love this book! It's informative and fun--once I started it, I was all in and could not put it down. The author states her intention at the beginning:

'This is my account of a winter spent with monsters, but it's also an effort to understand their history, where and when they originated, and why they take the forms they do.It is an attempt as well to understand why we are so drawn to horrors at Christmastime.' (p 9)

She accomplishes her goals and more. Clegg takes readers with her as she visits various midwinter festivals, even as she begins with Carnival, just before Lent, since as she says, this is what Christmas used to be like when Saturnalia was still celebrated. She also attends the Mummer's Play on December 26th in the Cotswolds, The Chipstow (Wales) Wassail in on January 20th, The Salzburg Krampus Run on December 5th, Lucy's Night in Finland on December 13th, and solstice at Stonehenge on December 22nd.

In each place, she participates, observes, and digs deeper to discover how each particular festival evolved, what came before it, and how each fits into a larger context. This is a slim volume, but it's packed full of fascinating history. Perhaps surprisingly for a book that's about the darker side of Christmas, it's also funny. I found myself laughing more than once. Clegg has a very dry humor, which I love and it comes through in her excellent writing. This is particularly true in the footnotes. I usually don't care much for footnotes, but in this case they added so much to the book that I was glad they were there. Finally, the cover art is fabulous!

I'll end where I began--I love this book and I highly recommend it! 

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Small Act of Kindness

 The other day, we went to Donegal town to get supplies for the Christmas Eve slow cooker lasagna and some other groceries. It was a fairly dark day, which meant that the Christmas lights were on in the various towns and villages we traveled through on our way there and back. It made for quite a pleasant journey.

Donegal town at 12:30 pm on a rainy December day

In one of the villages, a guy was waiting at the bus stop. He was an older gent, of an age where he would qualify for the free travel pass given to all Irish people when they turn 66. He didn't have one, though. He also didn't have cash and tried to pay his fare with a card, which the driver has no way to accept. The result of the brief conversation was that the guy sat down and rode into Donegal town without paying. When we arrived, he told the driver he'd be right back with some cash. In a few minutes, he returned and the driver drove off to begin his break. It was kind of him to trust the guy and allow him to ride into town. Clearly he is not a regular because he didn't know he needed cash. Since he didn't have a travel pass, he may have been a visitor. He wasn't on the return trip.

I've noticed the kindness of bus drivers through the years we've been here--and we've ridden a lot of buses! A few years ago, when we lived in a different village and rode a different bus, we were on the Local Link waiting to go home from Dungloe. The bus picked us up at Aldi and Joe, the driver, asked if we were in a hurry. Of course we weren't, because there was a 20 minute gap between the Aldi pick-up time and the Main St departure time anyway. He said he was going to look for some passengers he was expecting to be there. He didn't find them. He drove down the street to Lidl. He didn't find them. We went to Main St to the regular stop. They didn't appear. We left for the trip home. Instead of turning down the usual road, he went back down towards the cluster of grocery stores. As we passed Aldi, I saw a group of people standing outside with a very full trolley, waving. 'There they are!' I said. He turned around and drove into the car park. They loaded their groceries into the bus and off we went. When we got to Bunbeg, Joe stopped and waited a few minutes so a guy in the group could get what he needed in the pharmacy. No one grumbled or was impatient. The family was from Tory Island and if they'd missed the bus, they would've missed their ferry home. We were all glad to wait for them to do what they needed to do on the 'mainland' and head home with their supplies.

These are small acts of kindness, but in these times when people seem to revel in ugliness and nastiness, I think it's important to notice kindness when it shows up.

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